On the Edge of Reason
by FatedFeathers
Summary: A Jacob/Bella drabble!series, set post-Eclipse  post-wedding, in the book which shall not be named : It's sloppy, naughty and dirty. And completely without a plot. When you've had enough of enough, what do you do?
1. Part of the Crazy

_**Disclaimer****: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Part of the Crazy<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>o~*iii*~o<strong>

He had waited long enough. Thought on it hard enough. He'd had just more than enough of enough than he could even think or speak of.

In any case, he was out of time to care about rationality. Enough time had been wasted on talking and bargaining and trying, just so much trying trying and more trying.

_No more trying. _

Life wasn't something you threw away. It was something given to you to safeguard and take care of and nurture and protect. He was not only a natural enemy of the vampire, but also Quileute. It would be a complete disgrace to everything they stood for to let this damn charade carry on for even one more minute.

And he didn't care that under any other circumstance this would be highly unorthodox. But this couldn't exactly be rationalized as any everyday problem. This was a matter of life and death, and he stood between the two. That was his place, and that's where he'd stay. Anyone who wanted to argue could just go to hell.

If _anyone _wanted her out of this room it would be over his dead body.

"Jacob." She was disbelieving, her voice cracked and raw from crying and shouting, and he turned on her now, standing tall with his head held high in defiance.

He was hurting her and possibly ruining all his chances with her (like he ever stood a chance to begin with), but in the face of the choice to keep her alive, if it meant she'd hate him all her life, that was a price he was willing to pay.

A beating heart, blushing cheeks and two left feet were worth more than his sanity or the burning ache in his heart.

Screw everything else.

And he still hadn't answered her. He didn't know what to say. This _was _insane.

The edge of reason.

Once more. "Jacob." Slightly braver and hopeful. She was probably contemplating all the things she could say to get him to give in. He always gave in to her, and stepped back to let her have what she wanted because he just didn't know what else to do.

He was sixteen, smack in the middle of the biggest clusterfuck any normal person could ever imagine, and he had absolutely _no idea_ what he was doing.

"I'm sorry," she said, guilt now having crept into her voice.

"Don't," he snapped. He was so sick and tired of her guilt. What did she feel guilty about? Breaking his heart? No. She kept on doing it. Throwing her life away? No. She was too crazy to know about the value of it. That damn bloodsucker made sure of that, didn't he?

"I'm s-"

He shook his head and turned from her.

Then she retaliated. "No. You know what? I'm not sorry – _you_ should be sorry, Jacob! You _kidnapped _me from my own wedding reception!"

Jacob said nothing. He didn't even look at her.

So she continued, but in between sobs. "I should be – on my – my _honeymoon_ right now and – and... you ruined _everything_! And I – I... _hate you!_"

"Too fucking bad!" he exploded and was in her face, grabbing her arms again, but making sure not to hold too tightly... like he had _there_, in the dark. "Are you hearing yourself? You hate me for trashing your honeymoon plans – which should be the start of a _life_ with someone! But no, you don't care about life, you don't care about any of that – holy shit, I can't..." As he said it he faltered, the words sinking in like poison, and instantly he dropped his hands and backed away from her, dragging a hand through his messily chopped hair.

And he was quivering _all over._

Bella stood with her arms limp at her sides, her face flushed with anger, eyes red-rimmed and wet. Her makeup was all ruined and there were rips in her dress; she was a mess.

And she had never been more alive, and just so _beautiful._

"Over my dead body," he bit out in a rough whisper. He was going to cry himself, but he didn't care. Not today. Not here and not like this. Crying was another thing insignificant next to keeping her heart beating so she could continue stumbling and crying and being a total klutz and make bad jokes. "Hate me. Loathe me – I don't give a shit, but you're _not _dying. Not while I'm still alive, Bella, you're not. I've had it. I'm sick and tired of playing by your rules!"

A sob broke through the composure he saw she held on to so hard. "I don't... I'm so- I don't, Jacob, I didn't mean... I just... My honeymoon, Jake? We've been through this, and I thought – we decided – I _need_ him!"

He had her pinned up against the wall, the lamp on her nightstand hitting the floor with a crash and he leaned in while in a dangerous tone saying, "This is _not _about that." Several times he heard her attempts to swallow, and a whimper tore from her when he pushed her just that little harder into the wall. "I can see how you think that just because all _you _can think about is you, and what you want and what you need that you think everyone else do to, but, Bella-"

Shaking his head, he continued in a low whisper, "Trust me... I gave up on you picking me when you walked out that night, and I do have _some fucking dignity_... so don't think this is me begging you to choose me. This is me keeping you alive. I don't give a shit what you think, do you understand? Because you're not thinking clearly. You're not you right now, and I know I'm right. I know who you are, and I saw small bits of that when that leech was gone, and you were coming back, and you _would _have... with... time... _this isn't you, Bella!_"

Desperation and hopelessness took him over again and he knew so damn well that he only had so much time to hold her here; he was only one. They were here already, and while he didn't understand at all what they were waiting for he knew he wouldn't stand a chance once they made a move. But sometimes you have to make a stand.

His stand would be right here. Balancing on the double-edged sword. Between this girl and anyone who tried to make her death a possibility.

They thought he was lovesick... Well, if that's what they wanted to call it he really couldn't give a shit. If that was what made him step up and refuse to let his best friend die, then he'd take it.

Again. It was a small price to pay. Nothing else measured up to the goal of keeping her alive. Absolutely nothing.

Bella stared at him, lips parted in shock.

He stared right back, not once breaking eye contact.

"Please," she finally begged, "let me go."

"No."

"Jake..."

"_No._"

"I can't-"

"No!"

That part of him that always gave in was pushing against the other that only cared about her frantic heartbeats.

"You can't keep me here forever!" she shouted in his face.

"You think I don't know that?"

"Then what are you trying to accomplish?"

He groaned in frustration. "Dammit!" He shook her. "How dense are you?" Bella flinched, but he could see from her face and eyes that she was as desperate as he was. However, she was trying to find a way to get him to let her go while he was desperate for her to hold _on._

Barely audibly. "I won't go," she bargained.

Only for a split second his eyes widened, then narrowed in suspicion. "You're lying."

She sucked at lying, and she knew it – he knew it – so she only shook her head.

"I'm not buying it," he persisted. It was too easy, and he'd fought long enough to know she didn't change her mind.

"Please," she said again.

"No, Bella. Forget it. I'm done listening."

Out of all things that went through his mind right now, _this_ was not something he expected or had even been close to imagining.

But Bella crashed her lips into his all the same, making his entire body freeze.

For a long, never-ending moment he just stood there at a total loss.

"Bella," he managed finally against her persistent mouth, his eyes still open wide. Fresh tears leaked from hers, and she was struggling against him now. In his confusion he could only drop his hands and began to back up.

Against all things comprehensible, she followed. Not only that, her hands grasped his shirt, and now she _pushed _him. He stumbled, totally stunned, until he backed into her desk and nearly lost his balance before his ass hit the surface.

"Bella," he tried again, but she ignored him and was between his legs now, so close to him in a way she'd never been before and it made all thought-process halt. He couldn't help it, but his body was reacting to it – she pushed against him right _there,_ even if he wished she just... wouldn't.

This wasn't at all what he'd meant. What had happened? Why was she doing this?

Then she stopped and pulled back, but still held onto his shirt. Her eyes showed hurt and uncertainty, but also reflected the confusion that filled him so completely. The words that tumbled out of her mouth had him gaping at her. "I thought this was what you wanted..."

"What?" he heard himself say. He'd explained it to her... How... What...?

She withdrew her hands and twisted them together while looking down. "I told you about the honeymoon and you snapped and I thought that you... That... I mean... And then..."

It wasn't possible to be this dense, was it? Well, apparently so, because _she was._

Shaking his head mechanically, back and forth, he gazed at her dazedly. "You're insane," he breathed. "Like... actually insane."

Bella winced, but kept her eyes down.

And here he'd thought that she was just clueless and stubborn and naive, but she was well and truly crazy. There were no words for how messed up this was.

And then she burst into _tears _and covered her face. "I'm sick..."

"Bella-"

"No!" she yelled, her face still hidden. "I used marriage as a bargaining chip just so Edward would have sex with me! I didn't want _this_..." She grabbed at the skirt of her dress, then dropped her hands and raised her eyes to his – her face was flushed with color.

Bewildered, he stared at her. He had no idea what to answer, and even if he'd known, he couldn't form words – what had she... Did she... What the _hell_?

Wait – she thought _that _was why he... "You..." This just kept getting more and more bizarre.

While he tried to think up something – _anything _to say, he continued staring at her.

No. No no no.

But the atmosphere had already changed, and the charge in the air clung to him. Somehow they'd skipped over and forward, and while he'd fantasized about this girl more than enough, this wasn't something he had actually considered.

The crazy was obviously contagious, though.

He knew, because his heart was already racing in his chest as he reached out to brush a stray lock of hair out of her face. Encouraged by the fact that she didn't even flinch as his fingers touched her face, he lifted his other hand to cup her neck.

She met him half way when he pulled her closer, and this time his lips moved with hers as they came together. In the back of his head he questioned himself and her. But then she had her hands in his hair, fingers curling, and her body shaped against his. The questions became wants and needs so demanding he couldn't think clearly.

At least not past the tiny little noises she made when his hands left her face and neck to feel down the soft material covering her back. Or the jolts that shot through his body when she pressed into the part of him that ached and throbbed more with each move she made.

He broke the kiss and laid his cheek against hers, his breath shallow and shaky.

Quietly. "Jake?"

"Yeah?" he answered her before touching his lips just below her ear, causing her breathing to catch.

"This is isn't right."

He folded her into him but couldn't break contact with her skin. "It's not wrong either," he whispered into the arch where her neck and shoulder connected. She shivered. "You know how I know?" He moved to the base of her throat, kissed the hollow lightly.

"How?" she wondered in an almost soundless voice, but he heard her all the same.

"Trust me?" he asked instead, and felt her nod.

He didn't stop ghosting kisses across her throat as he with one hand began to bunch up the skirt of her dress until his hand slipped beneath to skim up her thigh. She jumped, but he held her snugly against his chest, repeating, "Trust me, Bells."

Again she simply nodded.

"And breathe," he reminded her.

Another nod, then she took in a large gulp of air as his fingers slipped up and beneath her panties, splayed across the bare skin of her ass, then squeezed. He had wanted to do that _so many times. _In spite of himself and this mess, he smiled into her neck.

The scent of her was something he had often before this detected, but not this strong, and not this close. It told him she wanted him, and that made an overpowering emotion burst in his chest.

When he skimmed along the curve of her ass, slipping down between her thighs, she stiffened, but he didn't let that discourage him.

With one finger, he stroked across the damp fabric of her panties, making her suck in a deep, trembling breath. The sensation made his head spin and he shifted slightly, the pressure that had him straining against his pants not just a little uncomfortable.

But he ignored it for now and continued to caress her through the thin barrier until her breathing was heavy and she began to squirm.

"Jake, please."

He withdrew his hand and placed it on her hip, turning her before curling his arm around her waist to hold her tightly, her soft ass snugly settling against him. He kissed the back of her neck and scooted back, pulling her with him onto his lap.

Gently he nudged her legs apart and stroked the inside of her thighs while placing open-mouthed kisses up and down her neck. Slowly he dipped his hand down the front of her panties, and then slipped one finger beneath the edge, causing her to jerk against him when he tentatively felt across the heated skin.

She moaned, and he had to press his mouth into the crook of her neck to keep himself quiet. His free hand reached up to cover her mouth.

"Shh, honey," he mumbled into her skin, then moved his finger further down. He closed his eyes and turned his face into her before he pressed lightly, making his finger slide between the folds, finding her _so so_ wet. "Bella," he said in a cracked voice, dragging his breath in.

Then he felt her lips part against the fingers covering her mouth, and he moved his hand to trace the curve of her bottom lip with his fingertips. Her breath washed over his hand and he felt the tip of her tongue touch his skin.

His heart skipped a beat and he felt his stomach buzz and tighten as she wrapped her lips around one tip. He groaned against her neck, and shifted against her ass. He was so hard, and wanted her _so much._

But having her like this was more than he could ever have allowed himself to want, so with that in mind he pushed her panties aside and caressed her slick skin, trying to focus as she stroked her tongue over his finger.

She moaned and sucked it into her mouth when he gently dipped two fingers into her. It was unlike anything he'd experienced and when her inner walls clenched, his hips jerked against her ass. He was so close and was glad she probably wouldn't know whether he came in his pants. If anything, he hoped he would as the pressure was just too much.

So he just couldn't help it, and moved his hips against her, matching each stroke of his fingers sliding in and out of her. When he pressed the heel of his palm against her, she tilted her hips and seemed to rub herself against his hand.

Very possibly he could have tried to hold out for longer, but he had never been with a girl like this before, and add into the mix all that he felt for her – it was a lost cause.

Bella whimpered when he sucked just a little bit too hard on her neck, and thankfully managed to keep quiet, though he wasn't able to fully control the fluency or pace of his fingers. This, somehow, must have been the right thing to do, as suddenly she was tensing in his arms.

She sucked on his finger. _Hard._ Then she came apart, shaking and trembling, and made a choked sob-like noise that sent a wave of warmth through him.

Carefully he withdrew his fingers, though he continued to lightly caress her with tender strokes while rubbing his nose just behind her ear. He touched his lips to the shell of it. "You can't have this without a beating heart, honey," he whispered. "That's how I know this can't be all wrong."

**o~*iii*~o**


	2. Old Habits Die Hard

_**Disclaimer****: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Old Habits Die Hard<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>o~*iii*~o<strong>

Sam was pissed. Beyond freaking mental, was perhaps the more correct term. It had been an effort to hold him back, and Jacob had wondered if he'd be forced to embrace the Alpha's call to save his own skin.

But the rest of his pack brothers had managed to calm their furious Alpha down. Plus, it wasn't like Jacob blamed him. He knew he had screwed up and jeopardized the treaty. At the time, that had seemed like a price he was willing to pay.

It still was. He would do it again, and he stood firm on this.

There were mixed emotions in the pack. Embry and Quil would stand by him no matter what, and, of course, their thoughts on the images he'd tried _so hard_ to keep to himself could only be described with one word: approval.

This made him shake his head. Trust _them _to only see the positives. Not that it was bad. He didn't regret it. No way in hell.

The others, however, were probably just worried about having the wrath of the Alpha directed at them, so they kept quiet.

Except Paul, who couldn't stop smiling – a cocky, smirk-like type of smile. It was _really _beginning to piss him off.

"_What?_" he snapped and folded his arms across his chest while glaring at Paul, who sat with his arm slung over the back of one of the chairs at Emily's table.

He just gave a non-committal shrug, but Jacob could see his mouth twitching.

"Right – that's it." Jacob turned and stalked out of the kitchen, through the front door and out on the porch where he began to pace.

This was such bullshit.

The douche-y vampire was supposed to pick a fight and give him an excuse to tear him to pieces. But no, he pulled his martyr-card, didn't he? And the saying 'like mother like daughter' should've clued him in: Bella's mom felt_ sorry_ for the leech.

Charlie didn't like Edward, this he knew, but he wasn't exactly jumping for joy about the kidnapping (not that he'd expected him to). Well... tough shit. If he only knew – Jacob wanted so _badly_ to be the one to tell him just _exactly _how messed up his daughter was.

The fact that absolutely _everybody_ knew that something had happened between Jacob and Bella, however, didn't bother Jacob. Not one bit. Except for that it _did _hurt a little that Bella was absolutely mortified.

Well... she should be happy Renée had come up the stairs when she did, or it would have been very obvious what happened. He'd been so _close _to ripping that damn dress off of her. Stupid-ass buttons and frills and... _That_ should have been a clue for her. That dress was just _not _Bella.

It was sparkly pixie douchelette _crap._

At least he couldn't begrudge her the lacy panties. Of course he'd never thank a leech, but he could appreciate the end result – he _had _appreciated it.

"If I'd known you had a thing for roleplay, I'd've fucking gladly bought a wedding dress for Swan. It could've saved us a lot of angst."

Jacob froze.

"I'd've fucked her though – if I'd been you, that is."

Heat shot through his limbs. Jacob turned and _almost _punched Paul in the face, but caught himself and merely shoved his trembling hands into the pockets of his shorts.

Paul snickered and held his hands up in surrender. "Just saying."

He could only stare at him. So that's what this was all about? Damn it. The smug jerk wasn't just in general approval of this whole mess. If Jacob didn't know better (and maybe it was better he didn't), he'd say Paul was impressed – no, this went beyond that.

Should he be surprised? No. This was Paul. Of course he would be the first to give his back a slap and offer advice on what to do with a girl.

"I'd take you out and buy you a beer, but we may as well drink ginger ale-"

"Shut up, Paul – and go away." Jacob turned from him and went to slump down on one of the ratty chairs. Was he going to follow him around now? All he'd done was to make Bella come. Was that something to get together and brag about? Did he miss the part where _he_ came in his pants?

He hated wolf telepathy.

Privacy was a luxury he'd never have, wasn't it?

**o~*iii*~o**

Apparently she _did _stay. For a little while. But she never went on her honeymoon.

Not only that – and he wasn't sure what to make of it, since as far as he knew, she was still _with _the bloodsucker – she had the marriage annulled.

Other than that, he couldn't tell you much about what she was doing, except that he knew she was in college. He also knew she wasn't one of _them_.

A few days after the wedding-fiasco he got a letter – a small note, more like it.

_Jake,_

_I'm not saying sorry, because I'm not. Instead I'm saying 'thank you' for pulling my head out of my ass. Yes, I just wrote ass. Ha ha. I know you're shaking your head at me. Don't shake your head at me. Don't roll your eyes either. Okay. Now that is okay. Smiling is good._

(He'd been guilty of all three, dammit.)

_In other words: we've postponed that thing, so don't worry about me. _

_I still need him though._

(And that's when he stopped smiling.)

_For that I __am__ sorry. I'm screwed up and I just don't know how to live without him. _

_But I still love you, and I'm not sorry about that either. _

_(I don't regret your hands on me.)_

_Bella x_

She didn't regret it, and she just had to tell him that, didn't she? Those words hit his heart and stomach every single time he read them. What he should do was burn it and forget about it.

Forget about Bella Swan.

Like that was even possible; she'd be his skeleton in a closet and when he died she'd be that space between heaven and earth that you knew was there but never felt. That was just how it went.

All of the Cullens were gone. Many times he considered sneaking up to Forks and setting their house on fire, but they'd just build a new one like the self-indulgent leeches they were.

Life was going back to normal (a new kind of normal) and his focus had turned to studies, work and patrol (though becoming less and less).

But she was never far out of mind or thought.

If he could just get himself to not hurt about it, then maybe he could actually date. But not until the pain her memory caused stopped leaking into his face. Every single damn time.

He _knew_ he shouldn't have put his damn hands on her.

**o~*iii*~o**

Then, one day – almost one year after that crazy night – just before the end of summer break, he stood in his dad's kitchen (he was cooking for himself as Billy was with Charlie at Sue's) reading from the back of the packet of noodles while stirring the pot.

A car pulled into the driveway. He made an unimpressed noise and then grimaced. It was one of those cars girls and women insisted on getting – a beetle – and it was _bright_ yellow.

The door opened and his eyes widened as he saw the largest dog he'd ever laid eyes on (apart from himself, that is) jump out and bound off straight for the beach. It was leaking slobbery goo worse than Sam's teething baby. Disgusting (the slobbering dog, not the baby). And how the hell had _that_ fit in _there_?

He looked back to the beetle to do the math in his head... and froze.

"Molly!"

In the back of his mind he was shocked that that... _thing_ was a _girl._ But all else had malfunctioned completely, as in his driveway stood Bella, shouting after a massive fur-ball.

"Oh no! _No, bubby! Not the water!_" she exclaimed in panic, and then she, too, was running in the same direction (and he guessed) _her_ dog had taken off in.

He sputtered in spite of himself. _Bubby?_

A fizzing sound was what broke him out of his trance, and he stared at the water boiling so wildly it bubbled out of the pot. "Shit."

He wasn't going to go after her. He would stay right there and boil noodles, dammit. Even if he had to start all over again thanks to the momentary loss of gross motor skills.

Not even five minutes later, Bella walked up to the car with...Molly? and he heard her explain that _this will only take a couple of minutes_ and to _be good_. (He shifted his gaze constantly throughout this to eyeball the water, just in case.)

By the time she knocked on the door he had himself convinced that if he opened it, his heart would literally jump up his throat. Possibly his stomach would crawl out of his ass, too, but that was minor in comparison to the previous prediction.

And he was freaking out like a girl.

Almost one year. And no calls. One year. And no letters. One year. And not _one word._

But then he opened the door and she looked up at him with a sheepish grin and her cheeks totally exploded with color since he was an idiot and couldn't stop staring...

"Hi," she said.

With his voice cracking embarrassingly. "Hey..."

This made her grin falter, and there... _right there:_ guilt. "Um..." She shuffled her feet and dropped her gaze to the ground. "I should have called... I'm-" She stopped herself, and he knew exactly why.

"You're sorry," he heard himself fill in for her with the voice of an answering machine – or something close to it.

It was strange how just the sound of her nervously fluttering heart and her painfully alive face could suck out everything between then and now, catapulting him right back into that room where she'd filled his heart so completely, only to shatter it.

All that was left was a hollow ache closed over by something hard and impenetrable.

Too much water under burnt bridges...

...and just like that he realized how _much _it hurt.

"What are you doing here?" he wondered, slowly regaining some semblance of composure.

She flinched and he understood. He bet this was the side of him she hated back then. The side she called _Sam's Jacob_.

"I..." She sighed. "I shouldn't have come."

"That doesn't explain why you're here," he pointed out as a matter of fact.

Not looking at him, but at the patterns she drew with the tip of her sneaker in the dust and dirt on the landing, she quietly said, "I'm visiting Charlie for a couple of weeks before I go back to school and I thought we could..."

More than anything he wished he could order his heart to _quit_ reacting to the thought of Bella being around for two weeks.

Maybe they could hang out and talk and see if there were _any _salvageable pieces – no.

Or he could just pull her into his arms and – no.

If he kissed her maybe that would – _no!_

Another sigh. "Okay," she spoke to the ground. "I'll just... I'm... Okay – bye, Jake." She turned without looking up and hurried down the ramp.

"Wait," he called out... _what?_ "Bella – wait." ..._hello?_

She paused next to the car, but didn't turn.

"Just one question," he said. Not that he had one, but old habits die hard, and these ones were ingrained so deeply – he had no idea how to let her go without a fight.

"What?" Bella turned to finally raise her eyes to his and they were just so sad.

"Aren't you going to introduce me?"

Not comprehending, she blinked. "Huh?" Then she got it, and her grin spread so quickly, taking him by surprise, and he just couldn't help but return it – warily – but it was there all the same. "Sure," she agreed, then her brows knitted just a little. "Fair warning – um, she licks... a _lot._"

The memory was there before he could block it, and judging by Bella's blushing face, he knew he wasn't alone. She dipped her head the slightest bit and turned to pull the door open to let Molly out.

The dog was out in an instant and pranced around Bella, tongue lolling and tail going, then looked from her to Jacob, who couldn't tear his eyes off of Molly's owner. "Hey, girl," she cooed softly and buried her hands in its thick fur, ruffling it. "You gonna say hi to Jake?"

"Uh, I don't speak dog, Bells," he said awkwardly.

Bella snorted a laugh. "That's okay. She doesn't speak _male_."

"Huh. Guess we're even then."

She winked at him, and he found himself moving closer. Molly's tail went wild and next thing he knew he had slobber all down the front of his shirt as the dog _jumped_ at him. Well... this was weird.

Bella just laughed at what he hoped was a pleading expression. He supposed he looked scared instead. He didn't _feel _far off it.

"Uh... Hey, Bells? Help?"

"Don't be silly, Jake. Pet her," she prompted.

So he did, carefully, and made it even more excited. "Jeez."

"Jeez, yourself. You're a big baby," she chided and hooked an arm around Molly's neck. Her voice was strained as she coaxed the dog away from him, supporting its weight momentarily. "Come here... The big bad wolf is scared of the puppy."

He scoffed. "Puppy? It's freaking huge."

"It's a St. Bernard," she informed him. "They're _supposed_ to be huge." As though that was the most obvious thing in the world.

"And what does Charlie think about having a dog in the house?" he asked, not able to stop himself from smirking.

She shrugged. "His first reaction wasn't too unlike yours, but-" And she grabbed Molly's face, and Jacob made a protesting noise when she rubbed her nose against the dog's, cooing at it again like it was a tiny, cute baby. "Papa Charlie wubs ya, don't he bubby?"

He was awestruck by the whole thing, and couldn't think of anything to say. She surprised him, and not only with the strange cooing, but... a dog? Not to mention the car. Which made him wonder...

"I thought you went to Dartmouth," he said while eying the beetle.

Her eyes flickered to his, and he thought he caught a flash of panic in her face, then she returned to cuddle the fluffy mini-bear. "I did," she replied in a casual tone. "But I transferred after Christmas. I live in Seattle now and drove down." At this she glanced at him, as if to ask that he just let it be.

"Seattle," he repeated. "And what about..." Dammit. Too late. He didn't need to specify – she knew what he had been about to ask.

Molly whined and gave Bella what he was sure was a comforting nudge. Huh.

"He left..."

Jacob blinked at her.

"He, um... Well, _I_ asked him to... sort of."

"...sort of?"

She swallowed and looked away, down toward the trees shielding off the beach. "You don't want to hear this-"

All he could do was stare as Bella put her arms around the dog's neck.

"Dogs will never lie," she mumbled. "Did you know that? They can't..."

"Well, they can't exactly talk, Bella," he offered, but wondered what it was she thought he didn't want to hear. "I'm pretty sure I _do _want to hear it," he tried, and then hunched down next to her. "Hey."

"I'm serious, Jake. You don't want to. Please, trust me – you just don't... Why don't you tell me what you've been up to?"

His eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Bella."

She shook her head and he reached out to push that curtain of hair out of her face she still tried to hide behind. "Please," she begged in a tiny whisper when his fingers brushed against her cheek.

Getting frustrated, he tried again. "Bella... I _want _you to tell me. I don't care what it is – if you don't tell me I'll just think the worst."

"I got her from a shelter... They told me her owners abused her. Who would do such a thing?"

Disbelieving, he shook his head. (And not because of the damn dog, though he could sympathize) "Look, Bella – we can talk about Molly all you want, _anything_, I don't care, but _after_ you to tell me what happened. And if not that, then at least tell me why you're _here – _in my dad's driveway."

"I told you," she insisted.

"No. You started but then you stopped."

"Oh... Right. I did, didn't I?"

"Yeah, so spill."

Fiddling with one of Molly's ears, and in an almost soundless voice she said, "I can't stop thinking about you." The blush was back, and it spread quickly all over her face.

Well... that wasn't what he expected.

"And, um-" She chewed on her lip. Then it all came out in a rush. "That night when I was back with Edward we tried to, I mean, he promised and I'd been so stubborn and when he touched me I couldn't do it and made him leave the room and I haven't kissed or touched or done _anything _since then because the only hands I want on me are yours and I just didn't know how-"

Abruptly, he stood. "I'm cooking noodles for dinner – want some?" He didn't wait for an answer; he needed to walk away before he did something stupid.

Like taking off to hunt the bloodsucker down and give him the most painful death in the history of douchebag-kind.

Or grab _her_ and kiss her and... Or something.

He wanted to _so badly. _

"Jake?"

"Yep?" Then he pulled the door open and realized he'd just invited her to have – burnt noodles? "Aw, dammit!"

"Um, well – that smells great," she teased, and he shot her an _oh please _type look while turning the hotplate off, taking the pot off the stove and dumping it into the sink. "I can cook something for you," she offered in a light and... hopeful? tone. "Oh, um, Jake?"

He stared into the sink while leaning his hands on the edge of the counter, shaking his head at the whole situation. "Yeah?"

"Is Molly allowed inside?"

Shrugging. "Sure, sure."

"Welcome to the Blacks'," Bella almost wistfully said and he glanced over his shoulder, only to wonder if he needed to get the mop out before long. Where did all that drool _come _from?

While the dog started sniffing absolutely _everything, _Bella came up next to him and placed a hand on his arm. Her touch did more than it should, but he squashed it and refrained from looking down at her face.

"Okay. I'll cook," she announced. Even though she hadn't been down for a year, she remembered where things were and before he could really object she was going through the pantry like she'd lived there her whole life.

That didn't sit too well with him, while at the same time he became warm all over.

He noticed the discreet looks she gave him, like each answered a silent question, and try as he might he couldn't help watching her himself. Whether it was for the same reasons he hadn't decided yet, but when he went to help her pull out the frying pan and their hands only _just_ touched it jolted him.

She wasn't completely unaffected, and this was enough to make a decision: triple the efforts to keep his hands to himself.

"So... Charlie told me you're planning on going to Peninsula?"

He occupied himself with opening a can of crushed tomatoes she'd placed next to the sink. "Uh, yeah." But he was too aware of all her movements, as much as he tried not to be.

_Hey, Bells? Why are you really here? Like, really? _

Just to jerk him around, or was there a real reason? He didn't want to make assumptions based on his overly confident beliefs. And while he could take verbal rejection, he knew, if she let him touch her again and then left...

"Commuting or?" she continued, inquisitive, but he could detect the tension in her tone.

"Nah. Going to stay with Rachel."

Getting away from La Push wasn't something he really wanted, but he couldn't afford to drive back and forth to Port Angeles. He'd be back on the weekends, though, to make sure the old man looked after himself.

That was a year away still, so he had time to figure it out.

Then she was next to him again and reached for the tap. "You should put water in it so it won't dry up – do you have steel wool?"

"What?" Confused, he looked down at her.

"To scrub it," she clarified while emptying the pot with burnt noodles into the trash. "So... do you?" Her eyes questioned him and he knew he was staring again.

If he didn't get a grip he'd slip, and the last thing he needed was a reminder of what her lips tasted like or how much he liked those little contented noises she made when he stroked her tongue with his.

Never mind that he _wanted_.

So he didn't mean to stop battling with the can or to lean down to rest his forehead against her hair. What more, he didn't mean to tell her, "I missed you." And he definitely hadn't meant to touch his lips to her temple, which caused her to make some noise that let him think she'd been waiting for him to do _just that._

But he did, and then she turned the tap off and whispered, "I missed you, too." And leaned into his kiss while he tried to break it off.

Then he slid his lips down her face, slowly, while waiting for her to pull away so he could get back to those efforts that so far had prevented him from touching her. And when she _did _lean away from him, all he could think was _no, _but he straightened and turned his attention back to the can so that it wouldn't be so obvious what an idiot he was.

That's when he felt her breath on his arm before her lips followed to brush across the goose bumps she'd caused. He shivered.

"Do you need help with that?" she asked quietly.

"Pretty obvious, huh?" While his voice was steady, it was more than could be said for his heart that thudded a strange, erratic meter.

"Um, yeah," she admitted sheepishly and went to grab the can opener from him, but that was no good as he _really _needed the distraction. Instead he grabbed onto the counter while staring out the window.

"What about you?" he forced himself to ask finally, but he still couldn't stop from looking down at her as she effortlessly opened the can. He guessed his own attempt had been pretty poor after all. "How do you like college?" _What are these bullshit questions? _Like they'd had this smalltalk routine going daily and the last months and months of silence was all in his head and never actually happened.

"It's good," she answered easily, with as little effort as opening that damn can. "I really like it, and Seattle's nice – apart from the rain." A laugh, but it didn't manage to hide what they _both _so obviously tried to ignore. "You can't have everything..." It was meant to be one of those things said as an _oh well_ type thing, but they knew just how true that statement was.

It hit too close to home.

And while he couldn't have everything he wanted, one fact still remained: Bella was right there next to him and he _wanted _her so much it took absolutely _everything _inside him _not _to reach out.

_And_ she'd admitted to wanting his hands on her and he'd really really _really_ tried so hard to not give her that, but now he could see that he didn't give a shit about dinner.

"I can't..." And then he was pulling her out the kitchen and down the hallway.

_Now_ her voice gave away her own struggles. "Jake?"

"Sorry, puppy," he told the dog before pushing Bella, who murmured reassurances to Molly, into his room and closing the door.

"Jake-"

He shook his head then trapped her face and caught her lips with an urgency bordering on violence while backing her further into his tiny closet of a room. She stumbled, but the tiny whimper that mingled with his tongue searching hers, and her hands tugging at the button of his jeans told him all he needed to know.

The only thing he broke the kiss for was to help her pull his shirt off, but he quickly returned to kiss down her jaw and neck.

"I'm still a mess, Jake," she whispered as both their hands fumbled with the zipper to her own jeans.

"I know," he replied and placed a heated kiss to the shoulder he'd freed of the straps to her bra and top, "but I'm working on it."

A choked laugh. "This is how you do that?"

He shrugged and dropped one hand down her stomach, not stopping until he'd dipped into her panties and found her slick heat. Getting his other hand tangled up in her hair and tugging lightly to tilt her face to his, he prompted, "Tell me what you're thinking right now," then pushed two fingers inside her.

She sucked in a shuddering breath and grabbed a hold of his arms. "Jake," she whimpered.

"Yeah?" He couldn't help smiling. He _loved _that sound, and how she clenched around him when he pulled out just slightly, then curled his fingers to press against that spot right _there_...

...making her go limp.

"I can't stand," she gasped.

He wrapped an arm around her, holding her up. "I've got you, honey." Then leaned in to tell her with fierce sincerity, "And I want to be inside you so badly," before kissing her _hard._

There wasn't a doubt in his mind that he'd come embarrassingly fast, but he'd wanted and needed and fantasized for _so long_. And now she was here and if she'd only let him he'd make love to her over and over until they got it right.

He just wanted _her._

Her hands were on his face and he pulled back with his heart pounding, searching desperately to convince himself that no matter what happened, he wouldn't crumble completely if she walked away.

But then she wiped all his deeply hidden fears away and told him in a shaky voice, "I want that, too," which set his heart on fire.

All the desperation gone, though drawing a discontented protest from her, he removed his hand. Instead he backed her up to bed while she pushed her jeans down. He had his own down and kicked them off before he kneeled to pull hers off, too. When he returned his gaze to her smooth legs she was working her panties down, and being down on this level... well...

With his hands that somehow had made it to her thighs, he looked away momentarily to regain the composure he'd been dangerously close to losing.

In a tiny whisper. "Is it... Am I..." She cringed.

Shaking his head, he closed his eyes and swallowed. "Just, uh... You're fine, Bells. Don't worry, okay?"

"Okay."

She jumped when he with gathered restraint laid a gentle kiss on her hipbone, then a bit below her navel – he paused there while his heart hammered against his ribs.

"Can I...?"

A pause. Then, "Ye-" She sucked in a shallow breath, then tried again. "Yes," she managed in a strangled squeak.

Tenderly, he moved his lips downward, but then he had to stop briefly for an internal ass-kicking to tell nether parts to cooperate and to not totally embarrass him.

Bella's fingers combing through his hair didn't help, and then it got even worse when he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her heated skin before darting his tongue out to lick...

...and she fisted her hands in his hair. Then _pulled_.

He made a strangled noise and immediately removed his face to press it into her thigh instead. "Bells," he begged with a groan. This wasn't going to work, so he counted to ten then moved up her body. "I'm going to come in my pants if I do that again," he admitted, mortified that his face felt a bit warmer than usual.

Her eyes widened slightly (whether she noticed or it was the admission that did it, he didn't know), and then she chewed her lip as her eyes dropped to his boxers. She flushed bright red; a contradiction to the words that came out of her mouth. "I want to touch you." But when she reached out he grabbed her wrist to stop her.

"I think it's better that you don't..."

"Why?" she wondered, sounding a little bit hurt.

"Come here," he said, and pulled her down with him to sit on the edge of his bed. Then he slowly trailed his fingertips up the inside of her thigh, making her breath catch, and finally searched out that extra sensitive spot at her center that had her gasping his name. "_That_," he said unsteadily, and swept her hair over the shoulder to kiss her neck, "drives me crazy. So if you touch me..."

Unexpectedly she pulled her top off and unsnapped her bra in the same go, letting it fall to the floor. All he could do was stare at her.

"Then make love to me, because-" And she placed her hand over his and pushed on it, down and _in_ – she closed her eyes. "-_this_ drives _me _crazy."

Done.

He removed his hand to shove his boxers off before climbing into bed to pull her with him and onto his body. When she slid her legs to either sides of his hips and her moist heat rubbed up against him he cussed under his breath, then in the next blurted out, "I've never done this before so it's not going to be mind-blowing or anything..."

She just stared at him, so he added, "And it'll be over really fast so – _shit_," he breathed when she shifted a little.

"Sorry," she apologized sheepishly.

Closing his eyes and gripping her hips to keep her still, he inhaled then exhaled. "Okay..." He opened his eyes again and reached for his nightstand to pull out the drawer.

"Oh, that won't be needed... I'm on the pill," she said matter-of-factly.

The tension and nerves made him laugh in spite of himself, and when she frowned at him he clarified, "With your luck? I'm not ready to be a daddy..." More like: he wasn't ready to trust _her_ to be a mom. Just the thought of her taking off on him with _his _kid inside her...

"Jake?"

After a few calming breaths. "Yeah... I'm good."

He swore the things that went through his mind at a time like this wasn't normal. Any other guy would've been fast asleep by now while getting yelled at for not doing post-sex spooning.

Not that he would ever turn down cuddling with Bella – wait. Had he just referred to Paul as a normal guy?

He closed his eyes and groaned.

Bella lifted herself up for a moment and then he felt her lean across him. When he popped his eyes open she was opening a condom with a neutral expression, then she grimaced.

"They feel so weird," she said distractedly. "Okay." She smiled triumphantly at having gotten the wrapper open. "I think I can do this – or am I not allowed?" Their eyes met, and out of all the things he would've _expected _her to blush at, this didn't even make her flinch.

Then she scooted back before he could answer, and when she (just like that) wrapped her hand around him, his brain just died . . . .

"Um... this isn't-" She sputtered a laugh. "It's not going on right – seriously, Jake. I can't get get it on."

In a choked voice, he pleaded, "Bells, I can't..."

"_Oh_ – wait, wait... I think I've got it-" She giggled. "It was the wrong way." With a look of pure concentration she stroked her hands down the length of him. He moaned and threw his arm over his face and bit into his arm. _Hard._

A wordless mumble rushed out of him as she continued, until he was so sure he couldn't take it anymore and clamped down on her wrists. "Stop," he breathed out roughly.

"Sor- um..."

He exhaled. "It's okay."

_There _was the blushing and her expression changed as though she just _now_ realized what she'd done. Or what came next. Which, if he were to be honest, made him a bit nervous too. But not because he was worried performance-wise; he knew he wouldn't last long enough to actually do much.

What he _did_ know though, was that this could very possibly hurt her, and not only because she was (by admission) a virgin, too, but he was... _proportional_ to his werewolf-physique. _Ouch._

Bella's hands were suddenly feeling up across his stomach, and when he focused on her face he found himself wanting to know what she was thinking. And when she paused to lean on his chest and met his eyes, a buzzing sensation tightened his stomach.

So he reached up to cup her face while stroking his thumb over the flaming blush in her cheek. "A bit late, maybe, but are you sure you want this?" As much as he'd convinced himself in the past of knowing her so well, he wanted her to have the chance to back out, no matter what it cost him.

"I want _you_," she corrected, and then lowered her face to touch trembling lips against his.

For a moment he just held her as their lips and tongues moved. With each dip and stroke, her body pressed closer, and before long his hands were on her hips, then her ass, clutching her against the ache that needed to be inside her.

"Tell me to stop if it hurts," he whispered as he reached down between them to line himself up with her. When she pushed back and he slipped into her, just a little, he had to close his eyes to concentrate on breathing alone. "Slow," he managed.

"Slow," she confirmed in a breathy voice, then proceeded to lower herself another fraction. "_Oh_," she breathed, and his eyes flew open.

"You okay?"

"Uh huh."

And he slipped a little deeper, until he hit that barrier which made him tense up at the same time as she did.

"It's just a pinch." Like she was relaying a message. But then she went to push back and froze. "Ow," she said slowly. "Okay... Um... Houston, we have a problem."

Not quite sure how he could in any way help the situation, he just ran his hands up and down her body – from her shoulders down her back and across her hips, to her trembling thighs... even her feet, then back up again.

"We don't have to," he tried to reassure.

She shook her head almost violently. "No no no... I can do this, I mean, I _want _this. I want you, I just... Okay-" She took a deep breath, and he wasn't at all prepared for her idiocy (though he should've known her well enough by now), but she pushed back _hard _and for a never-ending moment he promised to keep his dick in his pants until he died if _someone_ just wiped the pain off her face.

"Holy shi-" Her gasp was cut off by a broken sob when he folded her into his chest and held her tightly. She literally shook in his arms, and his chest tightened at the barely audible, choked noises she made.

"Don't downplay it, honey. You don't have to do that."

"Kiss me," she demanded instead in a cracked whisper, but crushed her mouth to his before he could respond.

Wary to make any sudden movements that would hurt her more, he kissed her back hesitantly. She quivered as he ran his hands over her body in gentle strokes, slowly skimming up her side to ghost along the outside curve of her breasts.

As her body calmed down, his caresses became bolder, more passionate, and softly he kneaded one breast before drawing a whimper from her lips as he captured a hardened nipple. That, together with the slow but deep sweeps of their tongues, soon had quiet moans building in her throat.

Then she moved. Only a small tilt of her hips, but it sent a wave of heat through his veins all the same. And again, but this time she lifted, and the sensation (in the back of his mind he was grateful for the condom and whatever desensitization it gave) was _so good._

She lowered herself back down...

...and lifted again.

He swept his hands down her sides to grab her hips and told himself to be careful but she was so very tight and wrapped around him so perfectly.

"Is it okay?" she mumbled in question as she pressed feathery kisses down his neck.

"Yeah," he breathed, unable to stop himself from pushing a little bit deeper when their hips connected. "You?"

"Yes," she replied quietly. "Very good."

Then she raised herself, finally giving him a look at her body while she moved over him and against him. Her fair skin was covered in a subtle flush, her breasts half hidden by the hair that fell down her front and finally... her face was _so alive_.

"Bells... You're _sexy._"

Her movements faltered, and she blinked at him with incomprehension clear on her face. He slipped one hand from her hip and dipped it down between them to stroke his thumb across that spot that caused her to make those noises he already loved so much.

As he began to rub slow circles, she pushed against him more firmly, making him thrust into her without meaning to. Her lids fluttered closed as her lips parted and he watched each little change in her face while trying to hold back on the rapidly building pressure.

"Jake." It came out as a sigh, and then he felt her clench around him. And again. "Jake..."

In a strained voice. "Bella... I can't-"

"It's okay," she said breathlessly, then she grabbed for his hand to move it back to her hip. "Show me... I want to know how to make you feel good."

He nearly choked, but then he simply did as she asked and thrust up, making a whimper slip past her lips. Then another, but this time she matched him. Next thing he knew she met each move, again and again, until a few strokes later he shoved into her one last time to pulse inside her.

Just as he was coming down off that high and actually could focus he noticed that Bella had stilled completely, and was glancing over her shoulder toward the door.

"Is someone here?"

He raised himself on one elbow, shaking his head slightly to clear his brain. "Uh... I don't think so?" Concentrating, he focused on the sounds outside the room, down the hallway, in the kitchen. Shit. Someone _was_ there. "I'll go check," he told her, but then he paused to look at her.

She started smiling. "What?"

He leaned in to place a lingering but soft kiss on her lips. "Don't go anywhere."

"Not likely," she reassured him, "because I've decided something."

With a raised brow, he wondered, "Oh, yeah? And what's that?"

"I'm not going to run from you anymore, Jacob. There's enough crap in my life to run from, and... if it's okay with you, and if you can forgive me, I'd like to have my best friend back."

He stared at her, a bit dazed.

Then she went to press her lips to his chest, right above where his heart thudded insanely hard and fast. "As in... the one I'm in love with... if he still feels the same."

Words failed him so completely, but then he realized that he was still inside her... and he was getting hard. Again.

Bella noticed, too.

He lifted her off him in a fluid motion, then pressed his lips into hers to stop her protest. "You're _definitely _not going anywhere now. Let me get rid of the intruder and... just..." He kissed her again, and she was on her knees, latching onto his hair and pulling him down. With a groan he grabbed her wrists to pry her off of him.

Since when had he ever had to do _that_?

"Maybe it's only Molly?" she suggested against his mouth, which he couldn't seem to keep off _hers._

"Maybe, but it could be someone else... like Paul, and trust me, you do _not _want him seeing you right now."

"How come?"

"Uh..." He stood and shrugged. "You know how he is. Foul mouth and talks a lot of shit."

Bella's eyes narrowed. "You're hiding something."

He sputtered. "Uh huh. Sure, sure."

If she never heard about Paul's very own version of 'Sex Ed,' that would be great. Other than that, he was pretty content with the situation. He threw Bella another glance before pulling his shorts back on (removing the condom first, of course).

"Jacob Black. Don't you walk away from me."

He scoffed. "Take the pain, honey."

Screwed up, he still loved her. And, of course, he always would.

That's just how things went.

**o~*iii*~o**


	3. Showing Up Johnny Walker

_**Disclaimer****: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer.**_

* * *

><p><strong>Showing Up Johnny Walker<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>o~*iii*~o<strong>

Pausing outside the front door, Jacob cocked his head to the side – not really sure he'd heard correctly – then, when nothing but her undecipherable words met his focused eavesdropping, he lifted his hand-

"_Oh... oh, God... yes, oh yes, baby... that's it... ri- right there- oh my God!"_

-and the air was choked off from his lungs as he stood, frozen with his hand hovering mid-knock.

"_Yes, baby, harder- harder! God! Yes- yes!"_

A billion things rushed through his mind (including how suddenly and embarrassingly his jeans felt that little bit tighter) then, not thinking any longer, he yanked the door open. He came to a complete standstill in the mouth to the living room (that's where the, uh... _noises_ came from).

"More, baby, _more_- now – ye- yes! Oh ye-"

Angela eying him with a fearful look on her face was what made Bella's chanting die in her throat, and now she, too, was still; though her face was focused on her friend on the opposite side of the coffee table where they sat with a large bottle of Johnny Walker and a mountain of used tissues strewn across the surface.

In a tiny whisper she prompted Angela, "There's someone behind me, isn't there?" who in turn could only nod. A half-bob sort of confirmation.

"It's not Ch-"

Angela shook her head quickly.

Bella visibly relaxed, then turned her flushed face and glassy eyes on him, only to slap her hand to her mouth.

Jacob had absolutely _no clue _what he looked like.

But then she sputtered, and was suddenly in stitches, doubled over and (one could think) dying from laughter.

"Uh... What..."

Then Angela raised both hands to cover her mouth as she, too, burst out laughing.

Well... this wasn't embarrassing. Not at all. Even less so was the pang of disappointment that shot through him: how come she never sounded like that when _he _was inside her?

He glared grudgingly at the bottle and decided that he and Mr. Walker were going to have to have a serious talk about this later... in Bella's bedroom.

She was _his_ and, the spirits willing, she'd take his name, too, one day, so some ground rules needed to be established.

"Ready or not, here I come!"

"NO JESS!" Both Angela and Bella shouted in the general direction of the hallway. Jessica (he assumed) was coming down the stairs; he heard the soft padding of bare feet and wondered what the hell was going on here.

Then Bella was at him, both hands covering his eyes. "Don't look!"

Only now did it occur to him that she wore only a slip (a very thin one, at that) and her soft breasts were squashed between them. He didn't mind, of course, and while he loved how the slightest contact could make his blood boil – now really wasn't the time.

"Holy shit – what's _he _doing here?" he heard Jessica hiss, but he was obeying Bella's order and kept his eyes closed. Though he probably wouldn't have seen much as her hands were still on his face.

"Uh..."

He'd come by to see _Bella,_ as he did every other weekend when she came down from Seattle. Normally he called first, but he had missed her something crazy and couldn't wait. (Mentally he noted that he'd _always _call first from now on... until he could present her with all the perks of living together, that is.)

**o~*iii*~o**

He faked what he hoped was a convincing (and irresistible) pout. "Aw, come on, Bells... do it."

"Stop it. You're not playing fair."

"Please?"

"No!"

She called it his _puppy dog-face_, and usually it worked. This time, however, it didn't seem to do the trick. Well... this just sucked. Mr. _Walker_ apparently was allowed to influence her. _Molly_ got her way by doing _her _puppy dog-face (never mind that she _was_ a dog; that wasn't the point...), yet _he _had to bust his balls to get her to do _anything _out of character.

Yes. He was pouting like a fucking child (and not acting very manly-like), but it was totally. _Not. Fair._

So that meant _he _could be unfair, too.

Bella rolled her eyes at him and turned back to the dishes. She was still wearing that slip – why did she need to wear a slip while comforting Jessica about her failing on again-slash off again relationship with Mike Newton?

He got helping her pick out a killer-outfit (that's what she'd called it) to seduce the poor schmuck with, and he completely understood the mountain of tissues (women cried a lot, after all). Even the whisky (fucking Johnny Walker- _you're gonna get yours_) was comprehensible. But _why _did they have to prance around in lingerie while consoling? Was it some kind of empowering-phase or...?

Sometimes he just didn't understand women...

...correction: _most_ of the time he didn't understand women.

The rest of the time they just went over his head.

He got Bella, though – until he'd heard her... make those noises. Now he couldn't let it drop. It was a compulsion; he _had _to hear it. But how? He'd already made love to her in any way he could think of, or that _she _could think of. Nothing had made her moan like _that_, and now his ego was taking a major hit, goddammit.

Bella Swan had always turned him into a pining schoolkid who couldn't seem to get it right. And she _still _made him an emo, angsty brat. Fucking hell.

"Want to help me dry them?"

Jacob cleared the whiny-him out of his head. "Huh?"

She lifted her bare foot and pointed toward the wall where a couple of towels hung, causing the slip to hike up . . . .

Not fucking serious... she was wearing _matching panties _now, too?

Ignoring the towels, he rose from the chair and walked over to stand behind her. He placed his hands on the sink on either side of her and leaned in, his lips barely touching her ear. "Bells?" he spoke quietly, but in a low voice, like she was a tiny kid who'd just brought in half the sandbox from outside. (He knew all about it; he remembered his mom's voice reprimanding his sisters.)

She shivered and tensed up, if only for a fraction of a second (but he noticed) then she made herself relax. Oh. Oh, so that's how it was going to be, huh?

"Yes?"

"I've been here two hours now..." He traced along the soft skin between her ear and hairline with the tip of his nose. Then back down again, all the way down to the crook of her neck. "Where's... _I missed you_? or..." Releasing the sink, he cupped her shoulders, then slipped his hands down along her arms to join her slowed motions in the water where she was washing the plate he'd eaten leftover lasagna from not long ago.

A faint sigh slipped past her lips. "Jake," she pleadingly whispered.

"..._I can't believe I made it two weeks without so much as-_" While guiding her hands that had gone limp in his to wash the plate, he brushed his lips over her collarbone- "_one_" -up her neck- "_single_" -along her jaw, not stopping until he reached the corner of her mouth where he lingered, but still didn't touch- "_kiss?_"

She inhaled a shallow, quivering breath and left the water to feel her way up his wrists, forearms, and leaned into him as her wet fingers splayed over his biceps then continued up beneath his sleeves to knead his shoulders.

"Um... how about..." She fell silent, then pressed her back into him and tilted her ass and pushed _up_, right against his already _so damn hard and aching_- "I _need_ you?"

"Fuck, Bells."

His mouth was immediately on hers, frenzied and clumsy, and a moan built in her throat when he roamed up her front, not caring at all that he'd just splashed a shitload of water over her. He palmed her breast and curled an arm around her to clutch her against the throbbing need to be inside her.

When he cupped his hand between her legs, she whimpered and all but collapsed in his arms.

With a gasp she tore her mouth from his. "Jake, please, I want you – _now_."

No complaints there.

She turned and he had her thighs in a firm grip, lifting her to him and walked out of the kitchen. With his hair as anchor, she attacked his neck and throat while he took the first few steps up the stairs, and, to his slight humiliation, stumbled when she pushed her hips against him.

Of course he caught himself, but then, in a hoarse voice, she made him falter, "Need you inside me so badly."

He twitched in his pants, and an electrifying jolt shot through him when she, in her frantic search for his mouth, bit his lip.

"Dammit, honey – _fuck_." This time when he missed a step he caught himself against the railing, but she was fucking _everywhere._ "Screw this," he breathed roughly and kneeled to set her ass down on the stairs, making a rush of air fly past her lips.

"Off," she demanded and tugged at the top button on his jeans.

"Yours, too," he replied under his breath. "I can't wait – _goddammit_. Two fucking weeks, honey – get this shit off." He didn't mean to, but he ripped her panties clear off.

"Jake!" she protested but it came out as a choked giggle-squeak.

"Don't give a shit," he mumbled against her mouth while working the buttons on his pants while she kept shoving at them until they gave way and slid down his hips. "I'll buy you a dozen, whatever, just-" He bit back on a groan when she grabbed him, then slipped his hands behind her head to make sure she didn't bang it on the steps.

As soon as he felt himself sinking into her slick heat, she reached around him, and next thing he knew she'd grasped his ass and he was inside her to the hilt with one firm thrust. "Oh_, holy f-_" The rest became a wordless moan muffled by her neck and after two damn weeks he had no control: he was driving into her (egged on by her nails digging into his ass) again and again.

Then she lifted her legs to hook them around his waist, making him go _deeper-_

"Oh, _God-_ _Jake..._"

"Shit, honey, you're so _tight._"

"So good- _oh_-"

"_Too_ fucking good, Bells, I can't-"

He could feel her clamping down on him and the pressure was rapidly building, getting too much.

"Soon," she managed in a shallow pant. "Soon – I'm just... _so_ close, Jake."

"You're killing me," he whispered and squeezed his lids shut while trying to think un-sexy and generally boring thoughts, which, were he to be honest, was pretty much impossible.

Mostly thanks to how she eagerly met him as he in a less-than-gentle fashion (and shamelessly) slammed her into the stairs. If it hurt, she sure as hell didn't let on, if anything it made her moan louder. _In your face, Walker._

She arched into him, make him hit some place... right... _there-_

"Oh, shit- honey, I don't-"

And then she was clutching at him helplessly. "Jake- I'm gonna-"

_Thank you, **God**. _

Just as he'd said his grateful prayers, she squeezed around him and he burrowed his face into her neck while thrusting into her trembling hips once, twice-

She came apart while an incoherent stream of words left her mouth, broken into a series of hitched pants and the repeat of his name. Somewhere, in between it all, he buried himself deep in her body and came _hard . . . ._

"Missed you," she rasped while catching her breath, but his brain was too dead to string even the simplest of words together.

"Mhmm," was the best he could do, though he wrapped her into him and held her there. Tight.

"Jake?"

A few inhales and exhales. "Uh-huh?"

"You might have to rethink your retirement plans." She said it in an _oh, by the way_ manner, which made him draw back a little to see her face.

With a cocked brow. "Why?"

She shifted slightly beneath him and winced. "_Ow_ – um, well... I think we just killed my spine, and I _really _have to pee and, well... considering how many times a day a person needs to pee, among all those other necessary things, I'm going to need someone to carry me around, and unless you want me to ask Dr. Paul-"

Jacob growled at her in spite of himself, which made her wriggle out from beneath him.

"Too easy," she teased and planted a quick kiss on his lips.

He stared disbelievingly as she stood up and wobbled slightly. "That was a low-blow, honey," he unhappily accused. She took a few steps then grabbed the railing and paused.

A brief silence, then she breathed, "Oh _Jake- baby,_" and peered at him over her shoulder.

"You'd better been joking about the injuries," he warned dangerously in a low voice.

She squeaked as he lunged for her.

**o~*iii*~o**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Author's Note:<strong>_

_Thanks are in order. To __**audreyii_fic**__ for the prompt of stair!secksing that made me decide to continue and actually finish and post this one at all. _(_Prompt to be found from here - NSFW_ - http:/ houseoferotica (.) tumblr (.) com/post/4383421458 )


End file.
